


sinnerman, where you goin' run

by pensee



Category: Catalyst: A Rogue One Novel - James Luceno, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Although there's no actual anal sex, Bad things happen to bodies, Dom Orson Krennic, Dominant bottom Orson, Emotional Manipulation, Inspired by Hannibal ofc, Inspired by The Fall, M/M, Mentions of mutilation, Mob baby Orson, Secondary school AU, Serial killer Galen, Sociopathy, Sub Galen Erso, Violence, erotic asphyxiation, mentions of strangulation, psychopathy, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22628428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensee/pseuds/pensee
Summary: “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, Krennic.”“I understand fine,” Orson hisses, discarded scarf between them like a murder weapon though he darts to pick it up as soon as it’s fallen. “You’re completely fine with the fact that I’m going to march over to St. Mary’s tomorrow and tell your lovely little girlfriend—I’m sorry, soon-to-be-fiancée—that you like to strangle and disembowel pretty twats like her every other weekend. Oh, not to mention the terribly heinous things you’ve done to me…”Galen should’ve known better; his IQ is off the charts, though common sense in conjunction with human behavior has never exactly been his strong suit. He knows fear, manipulation, and lust, and knows that Krennic holds the upper hand in all three, at this very moment.(Always.)-Coming of age/serial killer, modern-day AU. Galen and Orson meet in secondary school. After plans to propose to Lyra nearly come to fruition, Orson panics and tries to keep Galen any way he can get him.
Relationships: Galen Erso/Lyra Erso, Galen Erso/Orson Krennic
Kudos: 12





	sinnerman, where you goin' run

**Author's Note:**

> This contains dominant bottom Orson Krennic, cuz sometimes I just wanna hit that drama queen in the face. With a dick. 
> 
> This was HEAVILY influenced by Series 1 of The Fall, which is excellent if you are interested in fictional crime shows.

Tarkin, a prim and proper sort of bastard, introduces them the first day of fall session.

“Just between us,” Orson confides, wrapping an unsolicited arm around Galen Erso ( _what an odd name_ ). “Tarkin really is a stuffy old man under all that head-boy nonsense. Would stay at school forever, just to keep reliving his glory days.”

“And Mr. Krennic is merely the son of a few very wealthy people with very little morals. Shall we say ‘in the drug business’, or something like that.”

“Something like that,” Krennic smiles, and Galen picks dirt out from under his recently cut nails, trying to ignore them and wondering, _What in the bloody hell have I gotten myself into now_?

Galen was never entirely straightforward.

He tended to guard his feelings towards things because certain facets of emotions that he experienced were not entirely common among most young people (most _sane_ people) that he knew.

(Well, except Krennic, who had not looked down on him for being a scholarship student, or accused the academy of having to meet some imaginary anti-discrimination quota, instead keeping that blasted arm about him and whispering in his ear, _Guess you’re just too bloody genius for them to pass up, hm_?).

So when he’s knuckles deep into some stranger’s innards, forgotten to lock the door in his haste to get her undressed ( _stupid, so stupid, it’s what had nearly gotten him caught back home_ ), Galen’s more than flabbergasted as Orson stumbles into their shared room with a furrowed brow and a smile that does not fade no matter how much his victim’s organs squelch around as he nervously clenches his fists inside of her.

Then, Galen’s got no other choice than to nod wordlessly, mouth agape, as Orson drops to his knees and unzips his pants— _slowly, so there’s no mistake that he’s looking at Galen and nowhere near the still-cooling corpse on Galen’s bed_ —and licks the tip of him like a particularly delicious lollipop.

 _This is one way to keep his mouth busy_ , he thinks nonsensically, and when Orson swallows, tight, _so tight_ around him, Galen doesn’t think much about anything else at all. 

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, Krennic.”

“I understand fine,” Orson hisses, discarded scarf between them like a murder weapon though he darts to pick it up as soon as it’s fallen. “You’re completely fine with the fact that I’m going to march over to St. Mary’s tomorrow and tell your lovely little girlfriend—I’m sorry, _soon-to-be-fiancée_ —that you like to strangle and disembowel pretty twats like her every other weekend. Oh, not to mention the terribly _heinous_ things you’ve done to me…”

Galen should’ve known better; his IQ is off the charts, though common sense in conjunction with human behavior has never exactly been his strong suit. He knows fear, manipulation, and lust, and knows that Krennic holds the upper hand in all three, at this very moment.

( _Always_.)

“She’s pregnant, Orson,” he whispers, so softly that this sounds like a confession of infidelity, almost allowing him to forget this is a conversation about erotic asphyxiation and why he won’t be performing it on his roommate any longer.

“Well, boo-hoo for her,” Orson says, sucker-punched, though that could just be from the tightness of the fabric he has wrapped so mercilessly around his own pretty neck.

Two months later, Galen brings home a copy of an ultrasound that mysteriously goes missing. (Orson burns it in the boys’ sink, _that filthy bastard_ , bringing traces of that little _thing_ into _their_ home).

Lyra Patton is subsequently dismissed from St. Mary’s as soon as she starts to show, to take her levels at some other institution (or preferably not at all, to those of the administration that would continue to stress marriage as the only appropriate response to getting knocked up so recklessly).

Two months, one day and three hours later, the BBC catches wind of a body found in a drainage canal, and Galen drops the remote when he hears the news.

“They, t-they found her?” he stammers. “Shit, I—. Oh, God.”

“I don’t recall you complaining the night of,” Orson says, irritably unflappable with that damnable smirk on his face.

“ _Your_ hands were in her chest cavity too.”

“Well, I couldn’t very well let you go down for this alone,” Krennic says, halfway to affectionate, and Galen’s throat closes up at the offhandedly calculated remark better than the other boy’s hand on his throat could ever manage.

“Daddy’s rather good at hiding bodies, Galen. Better than you are, at any rate. It’s a wonder you haven’t been caught before,” he whispers, his tongue on Galen’s earlobe, and Galen shiver-growls, pushing Krennic away with less force than he means to.

“Drugs. _Or something_ ,” he parrots, from two years ago, when they were both so painfully young, Tarkin’s voice fresh in his mind.

“Or something,” Orson sighs.

Galen comes back to tell him that Lyra’s named their daughter Jyn, and that she wouldn’t like to see him hanging around her boyfriend anymore.

That night, when they’re lying in some other expansive four-poster bed (it’s holiday, after all, and Orson’s got much of his parents’ posh taste and money to spend), Galen asks about someone else, perhaps someone on the Krennics’ payroll, to clean up after his mess.

If things are to continue indefinitely, this way, Krennic is his best chance at survival.

“What will you do for me in exchange?” Orson asks, sly and terrible and everything Galen knows he shouldn’t lo—.

“What do you want?” Galen says, though it’s as true as _whatever you want_.

 _You_ , Orson thinks, but strokes his hand down Galen’s cheek, silent for once. The yellow lamplight casts them both golden, untouchable and impossible, yet with everything to lose.

 _Oh, my darling. My pretty pet_ , he sighs to himself, head on Galen’s heartbeat.

Though his friend is still quite fragile. It might break Galen too soon, to hear the words aloud.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up @penseeart if you are interested in Galennic anything (or Mads anything either) I have a serious lack of Galennic mutuals.


End file.
